Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 20. December, 1877

In Short

This volume is a curated miscellany of nineteenth-century intellectual life, functioning as a cultural time capsule. It gathers travel writing, war correspondence, social commentary, and literary criticism into a single monthly issue. By blending the exoticism of Sicilian ruins with the grim realities of European conflict and the domestic anxieties of Victorian social circles, the magazine offers a panoramic view of the Victorian mindset. It remains a valuable artifact for its ability to preserve the specific, urgent preoccupations of its time, from economic theories to the nuances of contemporary fiction.

The Story

The narrative arc of the issue functions like a journey, beginning with a romanticized exploration of Sicily. The writer observes the island’s transformation from a playground of Greek mythology—home to the fountain of Arethusa and the site of Pluto’s abduction of Proserpine—into a modern landscape scarred by the violent history of Garibaldi’s unification. This historical grounding shifts quickly to the domestic sphere, where characters like Sissy, a young woman navigating the emotional tensions of a Victorian household, find their own "earnestness" through music and private yearnings. Her story highlights the quiet, internal struggles often hidden behind the stiff manners of the time.

As the magazine progresses, the tone darkens. We follow a French narrator’s grueling, "Wandering-Jew" existence across Northern Europe during the Napoleonic wars. His accounts of captured towns, battered gates, and the ghastly street scenes of Lüneburg contrast sharply with the parlor dramas that precede them. He moves from the squalor of a henhouse in Holstein to the relative safety of a manor, yet remains haunted by the violence he has witnessed. This thread of political instability eventually bleeds into a contemporary Parisian setting, where a lace-selling clerk finds himself caught in a web of international intrigue and radical politics, entangled with a "heroic" woman named Sidonia whose devotion to a cause threatens to destroy her.

The collection then pivots to the more grounded, if no less eccentric, realities of American public life. An insider’s look at the home life of Andrew Jackson reveals a man who, despite his legendary toughness, possessed a hidden, superstitious vulnerability and a surprising, gruff kindness toward his guests. This focus on character study extends into broader social critiques, including a sharp examination of the "Ouida" school of sensationalist literature, which the editors view as a moral corruption that celebrates vice under the guise of aristocratic glamour.

The journey concludes with a reflection on the broader world. A humorous fable about a rooster who prides himself on refusing "meager" fare—only to realize he has missed a feast—serves as an allegory for the dangers of stubbornness. This is followed by a melancholic final dispatch from a troop train, where the laughter of soldiers masks the impending tragedy of war. The volume ends not with a grand resolution, but with a practical, sober assessment of the American economy, blaming the nation’s recent financial reverses on the startling decline of European immigration, leaving the reader to contemplate a world defined by movement, loss, and the persistent, unyielding search for purpose.

How It Unfolds

The Mediterranean romanticism sets the stage, as the traveler moves from the mythic landscapes of Sicily to the sobering sites of modern battlefields. This section establishes the theme of land as a silent witness to centuries of human conflict.

The domestic quietude introduces Sissy and Percival, shifting the focus to the psychological interiority of the English middle class. Here, the drama is found not in wars, but in the subtle, unspoken currents of affection and social expectation.

The wartime exile follows, as the perspective shifts to a soldier in retreat, capturing the visceral, day-to-day struggle of survival. The narrative becomes fragmented and urgent, mirroring the instability of the Napoleonic era.

The urban conspiracy brings the reader to Paris, where the threat of radical political change disrupts the life of an ordinary merchant. This arc explores the tension between personal safety and the allure of revolutionary fervor.

The portrait of the statesman offers a rare, humanizing look at Andrew Jackson, stripping away the mythic hero to reveal a man of contradictions. This beat serves as a bridge toward more critical, analytical essays.

The final critique rounds out the volume by examining the moral failings of contemporary authors and the economic realities of the United States. It leaves the reader with a sobering look at how global events—like immigration—shape the domestic landscape.

The People

Sissy, a young woman defined by her earnest desire to see her own future, emerges as the emotional center of the domestic sketches. She seeks depth in a world that asks her to remain decorative, finding in music a way to declare her hidden resolve. Percival Thorne, a figure of stoic, almost statue-like composure, acts as the mirror to Sissy’s development. He is a man of few words who observes those around him with a "wondering smile," eventually realizing that he has underestimated the quiet strength of the women in his life.

The French exile, known under the pseudonym Mr. Fr. J. Dierks, is a man defined by displacement. His journey from the battlefield to the safety of a manor house shows a man losing his sense of self as he moves through a world that demands he change his name and identity to survive. In contrast, Sidonia is the embodiment of dangerous, radical conviction. She is a woman of "undaunted courage" who sacrifices her safety for the sake of the Internationalists, forcing those around her to confront the human cost of political zeal. Finally, General Andrew Jackson provides a startling contrast: a man of massive public influence who remains strangely susceptible to old-country superstitions, proving that even the most formidable figures are tethered to the private anxieties they try to outrun.

In Its Own Voice

"No doubt it was the terrific natural phenomena of Sicily--the earthquakes and the outbursts of Etna--which rendered it so much a land of horrors to the early Greek imagination."

The author reflects on how the island’s volatile landscape shaped the ancient world's mythology.

"Had I remained on the Danish side I could now, as things have turned out, pass through Hamburg, which is again in possession of Davoust's corps."

The exiled narrator calculates his narrow chances for survival while hiding in enemy territory.

"I know the false and criminal jargon by which you justify your barbarous code."

A formidable dowager rebukes a man for his role in maintaining a violent, outdated system of honor.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the collection explores the struggle to maintain one's identity within a rapidly modernizing world. It asks whether the "antique" spirit—rooted in myth, superstition, and tradition—can survive the encroachment of industrial pragmatism and political upheaval. The authors are preoccupied with the cost of change: the economic loss of a nation that stops welcoming immigrants, the emotional exhaustion of the soldier, and the personal sacrifice of the individual caught in a revolution. It is an argument for the complexity of human nature, suggesting that beneath every social convention, political allegiance, or economic statistic lies a volatile, often irrational, and deeply personal drive that neither school nor law can fully reform.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the immersive, slow-paced atmosphere of nineteenth-century periodicals will find this volume deeply rewarding. It offers a rare, unfiltered look at the Victorian mind, unadorned by later revisions. You will feel the weight of a world in transition—a place where the grandeur of ancient ruins exists side-by-side with the grit of modern warfare and the mundane anxieties of lace-selling.

The book is not without its difficulties; the prose is often dense, reflecting the ornate, sometimes moralizing style typical of its day. You will encounter period-specific attitudes—particularly regarding race, gender, and national character—that are starkly different from contemporary norms. The excerpts reveal an editorial voice that is both highly cultured and occasionally judgmental, particularly in its critiques of "sensational" literature. However, for the patient reader, the reward is an unparalleled sense of presence. You aren't just reading history; you are inhabiting the varied, contradictory, and often startlingly vibrant consciousness of the year 1877. It is a work that lingers, forcing you to consider how our own sense of stability is built upon the same shifting, often violent, sands of history that the writers of this magazine navigated with such cautious, observant grace.